


Crack Ships and Side Trips

by thesnadger



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Crack Relationships, F/M, M/M, Shorts, extremely normal relationships between extremely normal people, it gets a little Night Vale by the end, prompts from tumblr, this is the dumbest stuff I've ever written and I am ashamed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 11:53:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5247320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesnadger/pseuds/thesnadger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every now and then, I take writing prompts from Tumblr. Once, when I was laid up with strep throat I asked for crack romantic pairings. This was the result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prompt: Bud Gleeful/Toby Determined

The Society of the Blind Eye gets up to more than just kidnapping and non-consensual memory removal, y’know. Think about it. Imagine if you knew, _knew_ for certain that no matter what you did in the night time, by the morning you’d have no regrets. No shame, no embarrassment…there’s be no awkward conversations or avoiding eye contact between you _because neither of you would remember a thing_. To be honest, there’s not a single member of the Society that hasn’t slept with pretty much every other member, out of pure curiosity if nothing else. Yeah, even that guy who married a woodpecker. _Even his spouse_ got in on it a few times. They’ve been up to some kinky shit. And I’ve seen it. I’ve _seen everything._

By far, the two who seem to hook up the most (not that they know it, how could they keep track?) are Bud and Toby. It’s hard to say what makes them go so well together. Neither of them thinks of themselves as interested in other men, for a start (each time, they both believe it’s their first gay experience.) They never meet socially outside of the Society.

Now, I may just be a strange, possibly-magical memory erasing gun, but I have a theory myself.

Y'see, some people believe in perfect soul mates—people whose hearts and minds are so perfectly suited to one another that they instantly click. From the moment they meet they just know they’re right for each other. Now, I don’t know if I believe in that. But I can tell you, because I have _seen_ it, that there is such a thing as perfect fuck mates. People whose bodies, whose pleasure centers, whose darkest, dirtiest fantasies so perfectly click with one another that it’s hard to believe it’s anything but destiny. When one is dominant, the other is submissive. When one needs pain, the other needs to give pain. When one is weeping and broken, the other is nurturing, needing to comfort.

Perfect fuck mates, that’s what they are. Each time, they discover each other anew, and each time—scared by what they’ve learned about themselves, about each other…Scared of the consequences to Bud’s marriage and to both of their sanities—they forget.

But not me. I remember _everything._


	2. Prompt: Tad Strange/Darlene the Spider Person

Hello, folks! Tad’s the name, being normal’s my game.

Naturally, a normal man like myself has a number of normal interests. Interests such as reading brochures, arranging rocks by color and size, grass watching…and of course, the most normal activity of all: _love._

Let me tell you a story. One day, during my usual 3 pm session of brochure reading, I learned about a place called the _Mystery Mountain._ It promised everything from looking at trees to going on slow tram rides. What fun! I had never been a tourist before, and was eager to have this new experience. I exchanged my usual tie for an ordinary t-shirt with “Tourism!” written on the front, and set off!

When I arrived there, a normal looking woman greeted me at the entrance. Her nametag read “Darlene,” so when I greeted her I said: “Hello, Darlene” rather than “Hello stranger, to whom I have not yet been introduced, but will hopefully become pleasantly acquainted with in the near future.” (My usual way of addressing strangers.) She was very friendly, and offered to take me on a special private tour of the forest.

As we walked through the trees, romance was blooming. I said words to her, and she said words back, and made the sound of laughter with her face. If you’ll pardon the graphic nature of my language, things were going _just swell._ We engaged in socially acceptable acts of public affection—We held each others’ hands, I put my arm around her and she tenderly injected a paralyzing venom into my jugular, carrying me away to a cave where I was wrapped up tightly in a perfectly normal giant web.

Once we were at her place and away from prying eyes, it was socially acceptable to display greater levels of intimacy than before. She batted her normal eyes at me, removed her normal leggings to reveal her ordinary cephalothorax and abdomen, and her eight normal legs. Things were certainly beginning to heat up. I considered whether or not it would be appropriate to remove my _Tourism!_ shirt, but since all my limbs were pinned to my sides by the webbing, it seemed a moot point.

She said she was going to step out for a while, something about a bottle of wine to go with dinner, (an extremely normal errand to accompany a very normal date! I was impressed.) At first, I waited patiently for her return, despite the discomfort that was beginning to set in. But as the hours passed, I began to suspect that I had been abandoned. Perhaps Darlene had come down with a case of eight cold feet regarding our date. I decided the polite thing to do was to chew through the web using my normal chest-mouth, lower myself down with my normal retractable ghost arms, and walk out using my normal feet.

I spent the rest of the weekend back home in good old Gravity Falls, taking photos of interesting rocks and leaves that I found outside my house. I learned several valuable lessons that day. I learned that love, like tourism, begins at home. And not to be drawn in by the charms of fast-talking ladies, no matter how normal they may be.


End file.
